


Space

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Fluff, Incest, M/M, Sex, Smut, Stanford Era, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 13:37:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9659663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: Written for the SPN Smut Appreciation Day. Sam finds a present Dean gave him for Valentine's Day years ago, and then a knock at his door brings a familiar face.





	

He knew it was here somewhere, and Sam scowled as he emptied drawer after drawer, looking for the comfortable red sweater that he was planning to wear to the Valentine’s Day campus party. It wasn’t like he even wanted to go but anything was better than sitting around moping on his own. The blessing of single dorms was exactly the same as the curse - lack of company.

The bottom drawer was the only one left, and he dropped to one knee, rooting through the clothing for his prize. His fingers scraped against cool metal and he froze instantly, his heart leaping into his throat when he realised what he’d found.

Clasping the object in his hand, the red sweater was forgotten as he pulled the watch loose from the drawer, holding it up in his hand for inspection. It was still cracked, still broken, just like his insides, and he felt his defenses crumble, unable to face the storm of emotion in his chest. Turning the watch over in his palm, he rubbed one finger over the inscription.

_ Always Yours, D. _

Simple and to the point, and Sam couldn’t help but wonder if it was still true. The watch hands were stuck at 9 and 36, marking the exact time Dean had thrown his bag out the door and he’d followed. The last time he’d seen Dean, with their last words being spoken in anger.

He fell back onto his ass, curling his legs as he stared at the watch. He regretted what he’d said to Dean, and missed him more than he’d thought possible. He’d called his number so many times, just to hear the voicemail, but he’d hung up before the beep, too scared to leave a message in case Dean called back - in case his brother still hated him.

God, what they had was twisted and wrong. They’d been all wrapped up in each other, too dependant, and Dean hadn’t been able to understand that Sam  _ needed _ to leave,  _ needed _ to try for something normal. To Dean, something normal didn’t involve him,  _ couldn’t _ involve him and their sick need for each other - because it was sick and wrong but fuck, everything felt right when they were together.

It had been eight months since that night. Eight months of dreams about the salty taste of Dean’s skin, the way his tongue moved like liquid against his own. Eight months of waking up hard and aching, spilling his insides into his hand like a horny teenager.

His phone beeped then, breaking him from his reverie, and he glanced up, still holding the broken watch in one hand. Getting to his feet, he wrapped it around his wrist without even thinking, securing it with the metal clasp. The beep was a text from Brady, asking when he was getting to the party.

Fuck, he didn’t want to go. Suddenly moping alone seemed like a good idea.

Someone knocked at his door, and he frowned, wondering if Brady was impatient enough to come knock for him before he’d even had a chance to reply. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he stepped to the door, opening it, and falling back on his heels in surprise at the sheepish face that greeted him.

‘Hiya, Sammy.’

It was like the watch had summoned him, like a spectre out of nowhere, and Sam gaped like a fish out of water as Dean hovered in the doorway, looking into the small dorm room but not making any move to enter. 

‘You gonna invite me in or -’

Sam shook his head, clearing the shock, standing back and swinging one arm out to gesture at the room. ‘Sorry, I guess, I wasn’t…’ He cut himself off, giving his brother a tight smile. ‘Come in, Dean.’

One heavy booted foot fell over the threshold into Sam’s space, and it was like home had come back to him. Dean was within his bubble, his sanctuary, and it was just like he remembered from every day of his life. The scent of him, the simple feel of him… it was never Sam’s space alone. It was always Dean and Sam’s, Sam and Dean’s, the Winchester brothers.

How could he have left behind the fact that they were a pair, that they were perfectly fitted and formed, moulded to one another like jigsaw pieces?

‘Nice place you got,’ Dean commented as Sam shut the door. He moved across to the messy chest of drawers, picking up a sock and raising an eyebrow in his little brother’s direction. ‘I thought you were more on top of housecleaning than this.’

‘I was, er, looking for something,’ Sam explained, before spotting his red sweater, dangling out of the laundry basket. He sighed in exasperation at it, but the noise reached Dean’s ears as if it were directed at him.

‘Don’t worry, not stopping long,’ the elder Winchester gave him a tight smile, his body language becoming stiff and awkward, and Sam realised that Dean thought he didn’t want him here. ‘You going to that big to-do all the girls were heading down to?’

‘The Valentine’s Day party…’ Sam muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face and trying to figure out how to fix whatever he’d broken. ‘I was but -’

‘Like I said, not stopping long. I was just in the neighbourhood, was wondering how you were… and you’re doin’ great,’ Dean smiled, moving back towards the door. ‘So, I’ll just,’ his hand clasped the door handle, ‘leave.’ The door clicked as he turned the handle, but Sam was there, covering his brothers fingers with his, locking his hazel eyes onto emotional green orbs. ‘Sam?’

‘Don’t go,’ Sam requested, his voice low, his fingers gentle as he squeezed Dean’s grip away from the door. ‘Please, I - I was gonna go, but then…’

Dean’s eyes flickered down, and realisation spread over his face. ‘You’re wearing your watch.’ Sam swallowed, stepping back, his eyes going to the silver metal around his wrist. ‘I didn’t… I thought you’d throw it away.’

Sam shook his head, releasing Dean’s hand to touch the watch. ‘I broke it. And I put it away but… I found it tonight, just before you got here. Kinda spooky, huh?’

Silence fell between them for a few seconds before Dean chuckled, reaching over to take his hand. ‘I don’t think that’s spooky, Sammy.’

The younger man opened his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by his phone ringing, and he scowled, pulling his cell from his pocket. The screen flashed with Brady’s name, and Dean released his hand, stepping back to give Sam space as he answered, his expression apologetic towards his older brother.

‘Brady, hi.’ Sam paused, turning his face away a little. ‘Yeah, no, I’m, uhm, I might give it a miss.’ A nervous laughter passed his lips, and Dean strained to hear what the other man was saying to him. ‘Nothing like that, just…’ Another pause, another nervous laugh, and Dean’s chest tightened, emotion overwhelming him. He edged back towards the door, knowing Sam would give in to his friend, pick the party over him, pick his friends, his normal life, over the wrongness of everything that Dean represented.

He wasn’t expecting Sam’s free hand to grab his forearm, clenching tight around his coat sleeve, forcing Dean to look up and lock eyes with his baby brother, who was staring at him with determination.

‘No, I’m not coming. I’ve got company.’ Hope soared in Dean’s throat as Sam’s hazel eyes continued to hold his. ‘Yeah, it’s exactly like that.’ He smiled and Dean allowed that tiny spark of hope to soar, a smile tugging at his lips in return. ‘Yeah, dude. Best you call before you come over.’

The click of the “end-call” button was the loudest and most defining thing Dean had ever felt, and he couldn’t stop himself from stepping right into Sam’s space as his brother threw the phone onto the pile of laundry by his bed. ‘You’re not going to the party with your friends?’

Sam smiled, pulling Dean in close. ‘You drove all this way to see me, Dean. Of course I’m not going.’

‘What about…’ Dean sucked in a breath, all too aware of the proximity of Sam’s lithe body to his. His baby brother had started to fill out more, now his teen years were over, but he still didn’t have that stockiness that Dean had been working on for a few years. ‘What about “normal”?’

A slight chuckle rumbled up from Sam’s chest as he tugged Dean closer, brushing the tip of his nose up and over his brother’s, enjoying the scent of his aftershave. ‘Normal is overrated.’ He dipped his head, pressing his lips to Dean’s, and the elder Winchester responded eagerly, curling his fingers into Sam’s t-shirt, dragging him flush against him. Both of them battled for dominance, like they always had, tongues thrusting against one another until they separated for lack of air.

‘I’ve missed you, so much,’ Dean muttered, his voice choked and thick with emotion. Sam nodded, not pressing for any more than that, knowing that it was more than Dean had ever given him before. He knew his brother loved him, despite what had happened in the past, and he knew it without ever hearing the words said directly.

Strong hands pushed him backwards to the bed, and he felt the wooden base hit his calves, a smile spreading over his face as Dean shed his jacket, unwilling to part from his brother’s lips for long. Kisses became brief and more heated, teeth scraping against lips as they clutched at each other like they were the only thing keeping each other alive.

Sometimes that had been all too true.

‘De -’ Sam gasped, his fingers getting tangled in the other man’s shirt as he tried to unbutton it, almost laughing at the desperation in their kisses and touches. Too many months of separation made Dean already achingly hard in his jeans, and Sam the same, but rushing this wasn’t an option for either of them.

Dean’s shirt hit the floor, followed by Sam’s t-shirt, and the elder Winchester’s fingers grasped at his baby brother’s belt, unbuckling it and pulling the leather through the hoops, his fingers hooking into the waistband to drag the material down. ‘Wanna taste you, Sam. Been too long…’ His words were swallowed by a whine and kiss from Sam, his brother licking at the inside of his mouth, almost like he was memorising the taste of him. ‘Get on the bed,’ Dean growled.

Sam was quick to obey, falling backwards onto his ass, kicking his jeans off and peeling his boxers with them. They hit the floor, joining the other clothing as he rolled onto his back, finding himself with arms full of Dean a few seconds later. Dean ground down against him, rubbing his denim-clad cock against Sam’s bare erection and making the younger man mewl in desperation. Precome leaked from his tip, coating the fine hairs on his stomach, staining Dean’s pants.

‘You got taller,’ Dean commented, one hand holding him up off of Sam’s body, the other threading through his brother’s messy hair. ‘And your hair is longer.’

‘Astute observations,’ Sam retorted, smirking at him. ‘People do change with time.’

Dean growled low in his chest, tugging at Sam’s hair and making him gasp in fresh arousal. His cock twitched against the pressure of Dean’s body, and the older man grinned, before taking him in a kiss once more. His free hand left the tangle of his brother’s hair, reaching between them to fist Sam’s cock and make him arch underneath him.

‘ _ Dean _ ,’ Sam whined, and the elder grinned as grabby hands went for his waistband, pushing his loose jeans down around his hips. They didn’t budge far, but Sam was persistent, using his feet to get the denim away from Dean’s ass, and Dean broke the kiss to laugh. ‘Fuck, get these off.’

‘Someone’s demanding.’

Sam glared at him. ‘It’s been months, Dean.’

‘What, no pretty freshman college girls hanging around?’ The eldest Winchester teased, as Sam continued to rip and peel Dean’s jeans down, with no help. ‘Freshman guys?’ He wiggled his eyebrows, and Sam paused, looking up at him in frustration. ‘Really?’

‘No.’ Sam muttered, his cheeks flushing. ‘No one.’

Dean stared at him, his lips curling. ‘And here I thought I was gonna be the only one with blue balls.’ He moved, pulling Sam’s hands away from his jeans, pushing them down and kicking them away from his feet as they came loose. He’d forgone underwear that morning, in lieu of not being able to find a laundromat before his trip, and eagerness making him not bother to look when he’d arrived in San Jose.

His brother arched an eyebrow at his commando style, seemingly pleased with one less barrier to work with, but he didn’t have time to comment as Dean ducked down, pushing Sam’s thigh up high and spreading his cheeks. Sam clenched, whimpering as Dean softly exhaled over his hole, the elder’s smile positively ravenous. ‘Missed this pretty little boy cunt,’ he whispered, before running his tongue around his brother’s rim. Sam tensed, his mouth forming into a “o” as Dean repeated the action. ‘Tight little hole,’ he commented. ‘Did you miss me, Sammy?’

Sam rolled his eyes, despite his position, recognising his brother’s need for affirmation. ‘You know I did, De.’

Dean looked up at him, smiling at the younger man’s face contorted in pleasure, before lapping at his tight hole once more, relishing the squeaky cry Sam gave. He stroked his tongue over him, dipping the tip into his entrance, pushing against the tight ring of muscle until Sam relaxed and the tension melted away. Dean groaned at the taste of him, thrusting his tongue inside as far as it would go, Sam’s panting and small cries of bliss pressing him on further.

‘Fuck, De, rig - right there -’ Sam whimpered, his cock bobbing against his stomach as his brother ate him out, the sloppy sound of Dean’s tongue on his ass echoing around the room. Pleasure wound in his stomach as his hips rolled, pushing further down onto the other man’s tongue, needing more friction, more  _ everything _ . ‘Dean…’

‘Always were a slut for my tongue, baby brother,’ Dean growled, his hands grabbing the younger man’s hips, dragging him closer, opening him up more as he pushed his tongue hard into Sam’s ass, curling it so the tip pressed along his inner walls. Sam yelled nonsensical words, and Dean fucked him harder, thrusting his tongue in and out until it was aching, his lips swollen from the effort. Sam’s body shook, and he reached for his own cock, only to have Dean’s hand bat it away.

‘Na-uh, you’re not coming until I’m inside you, sweetheart.’ The statement made Sam’s toes curl and he nodded, mouth open as he gasped for breath. Dean knelt up, looming over his brother, sucking two fingers into his mouth, covering them with saliva before lining them up to Sam’s hole. One digit sank in easily to the hilt, and Sam gave a high pitched noise, his eyes rolling back in his head. Dean thrust once, twice with a single finger, before adding the second and Sam’s body twitched and jerked in response. ‘Such a little slut, Sammy. Did you miss being touched like this?’ Sam nodded, biting down on his lower lip until a thin streak of blood slid down his skin, and Dean leaned in, licking it up, smacking his lips obscenely. ‘Where’s the lube, baby boy?’

‘In the… fuck… in the drawer… there -’ He cut off, waving at the drawers next to the bed absently, and Dean withdrew his fingers to Sam’s whimpered mewl of loss. Dean plucked the bottle of lube from the drawer and opened it, coating his thick cock generously, before drizzling some over his brother’s twitching hole. ‘Dean,  _ please _ -’

‘So impatient,’ Dean reprimanded, clicking the lid shut and tossing the bottle over into the corner of the bed. ‘Gonna fill you up, little brother. Don’t you worry.’ He knelt with his thighs flush against Sam’s ass, fisting his cock and pressing the tip to Sam’s hole, closing his eyes as he heard Sam gasp and then moan deeply at the first touch. Slowly, he pressed in, watching his brother open up to him, his thick cock disappearing inch by inch into the other man’s body. ‘Fuck, still so ready for me, Sammy. Opening up so well.’

Sam nodded, his teeth returning to his ravaged lip as Dean kept moving, sinking into him and not stopping until his ball were cradled against his hot skin, his cock hard and twitching inside him. Dean fell forward, his hands either side of Sam’s shoulders, his mouth dropping to graze over a hardened nipple as he held himself fast inside his brother’s hot, tight channel.

‘Want me to move, Sammy?’ Dean panted, swirling his tongue around the hard little bud of Sam’s nipple. ‘Want me to fuck you good?’

‘You know I do, Dean, please,  _ fuck _ ,  _ move. _ ’ The younger man was flushed all over, his body shaking with arousal, and Dean pulled out, before easing back in, savouring the sound of Sam’s answering groan, his hole fluttering around his cock and making Dean feel like he could blow his load right there. He moaned, covering Sam’s body with his, keeping his thrusts shallow as he claimed Sam’s mouth with a harsh kiss that was all teeth and tongue. Sam only begged for more, his hands reaching up to hold Dean’s face to his, greedy in his demanding kisses.

There was little room between them, and even less for Dean to gain any meaningful movement, but neither of them were willing to sacrifice the full body contact. Sam’s cock was pinned against his stomach, rubbing against his skin and Dean’s as they writhed together, and the younger of the two gasped, feeling Dean’s cock bump against his prostate lightly. He needed more and Dean sensed it, pushing up and pinning Sam’s hands with his as he did so.

‘No one else, ever,’ he growled possessively, making Sam shiver and nod. Dean didn’t require verbal affirmation of his claim - he never did, because he  _ knew _ Sam would only ever be his - and he shifted his hips back, slamming hard into the younger man, making him howl in pleasure. Sam’s cock spurted and dribbled onto his belly, precome staining his California-tanned skin, and Dean resisted the urge to bend and lick up the fluid, focusing instead on dragging his hips back and forth, pounding into Sam over and over to make his cock steadily leak.

Sam’s mouth opened and closed like he wanted to speak, but all that emerged was mewls and whispered pleas that Dean couldn’t make out amongst the slap of skin on skin and his blood rushing in his ears. His heart thundered and his fingers curled in between the joints of Sam’s where he held them, clinging to his brother as he rolled his hips over and over, his cock thickening as he felt the pull of his orgasm tighten in his belly.

‘Wanna come, De,’ Sam wailed, squeezing his fingers around Dean’s and gasping as he arched his back. Dean grunted, his strokes becoming faster and harder, as Sam locked his ankles around his back and dug his heels into Dean’s ass. The angle changed, and Dean’s cock slammed into Sam’s sweet spot, making the younger man come with a scream, his cock spurting over his stomach and chest. His body clamped down on Dean’s cock, and coupled with the sight of Sam’s climax, it was enough to send Dean over the edge, his hips stuttering before slamming into Sam’s ass, his orgasm holding him inside as he filled his brother up with come.

Both of them panted heavily, and Sam pulled Dean down, capturing him in a fierce kiss, his hands roaming all over his body, memorising every inch of him. It took everything Dean had to pull away, rolling to the side as Sam stretched and whimpered at the loss. He reached over and grabbed a towel from the laundry to clean up and then curled onto his side to face his brother as Dean watched him closely.

‘How long are you staying?’ Sam asked, looking up at him through thick eyelashes, the question inspiring uncertainty as he posed it. Dean hesitated, not meeting his brother’s eyes for a moment, before giving him a cocky smile.

‘Couple of days, I guess. Why, you got a hot date you want me out of the way for?’

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean’s deflective behaviour, nudging closer to him, kissing his shoulder with closed lips, his hand curling over his big brother’s belly. He was sticky, and in need of a shower, but he wasn’t about to drop his question. ‘No dates,’ he muttered, his fingers stroking through the dark trail of hair that started at Dean’s belly button and ran down to his groin. ‘Just thought… you could stay longer.’

Dean closed his eyes, rolling onto his back. ‘I can’t, Sam. You know I can’t. There’s hunting, and -’

‘You could hunt from here. Plenty of monsters in California.’ Sam knew he sounded desperate; he just didn’t care.

‘Sam, I don’t fit in here.’

And there is was, blunt and to the point. Sam couldn’t help the tears that sprang into his eyes, the flashbacks of their last encounter too fresh once more. ‘You could. You could get a job and stay, and we could -’

‘No, we couldn’t.’ Dean stopped him dead in his tracks. ‘You wanted the normal life, Sam. You wanted college and a job and no hunting - and maybe that’s for you. But it’s not me. I’m a hunter. It’s my blood. It’s me.’ He sighed. ‘I don’t fit in with the life you want.’

Sam sighed, and Dean looked at him, green eyes filled with watery emotion. ‘You do fit,’ he whispered, taking Dean’s hand and pressing it to his chest, where his brother could feel his heart beating underneath the surface. ‘You fit here, doesn’t that count?’

Dean rolled, pulling Sam close, pressing their foreheads together and closing his eyes. ‘I wish it did, Sammy. I wish it could be everything. But it can’t…’ He trailed off, and Sam remained silent, not wanting to ruin the short time they had with arguments.

One day, he’d convince Dean to stay. He’d show him that they were happiest together. He’d show him that the only space he’d ever feel was home, was a space with Dean in it.


End file.
